


This Isn't HermitCraft

by Trashfoxkitty



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Admin powers, Angst, Blood and Injury, F/F, Gore, Hybrids, M/M, Misgendering, Tags Are Hard, Violence, Winged Grian, cool powers, lab AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24078535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashfoxkitty/pseuds/Trashfoxkitty
Summary: The Hermits wake up in an unknown location but are split up. Each Hermit faces their own challenges, being watched over by strangers who claim to be scientists.Can they make it out and find each other?
Relationships: ImpulseSV/Tango Tek/Zedaph, impulseSV & Tango Tek & Zedaph (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 140
Kudos: 477





	1. Do I Wanna Know? (Yes I Do)

This isn’t Hermitcraft.

That was the first thing Xisuma thought when he woke up. Carefully getting up from the cot, he looked around. He was in a small white padded room with one wall being a window. He carefully made his way to the glass, putting his hand on it as he looked out. There were a variety of screens and machinery.    
  
His breath hitched. He was in a lab of somesort. Xisuma lifted a hand to face only to be met with skin instead of the cold hard metal he was used to. He looked down at himself, silently freaking out. His suit was gone, instead he was in a medical gown.   
  
“This can’t be happening.” 

A shiver was sent down his spine. Oh God, where was he? Why was he here? Why him?

Xisuma took deep breaths. Freaking out would not help him. 

First things first, he had to make sure that the other hermits weren’t stuck in the same situation as him. If they were he would need to make sure all of them got out. Xisuma quickly started coming up with plans upon plans in his head, quickly rejecting a few already. 

He would have to gain information from whoever put him here. If he was lucky, that person would be happy to brag about whether or not he took the other hermits. If not… well he would have to figure that out. He would also need to know the layout of the building he was in. Without knowing where an exit was it would be almost impossible for him to escape. 

Footsteps could be heard coming down the hall towards his room. Cell, he corrected himself. He was trapped in a cell.    
  


“Subject 79X, can you hear me?”    
  
Xisuma’s head snapped to look at the person. They were a young male with short brown hair and a lab coat. If Xisuma had to guess they were in their mid-thirties. 

“Subject 79X, we need a verbal response.”   
  
“...Yes.”   
  
The Scientist smiled, writing something down on his clipboard before speaking again, “Subject 79X, Please repeat after me. I am Subject 79X and I’ll be rewarded if I behave.”   
  
Xisuma repeated the scientist with a scowl, “I am Subject 79X and I’ll be rewarded if I behave.”

“Good job. Now you may have noticed that this is not ‘Hermitcraft’ as you call it. You see, one of your members used to be one of our experiments, experiment 77. He was smuggled out by a rogue scientist years ago. Honestly I doubt that Subject 77 even remembers. Always, when we found him we were excited to find even more oddities such as yourself and your friends. A druid? A demon? Wonderful creatures that this world has never had.”

Xisuma glared at the man, “We aren’t your playthings.”   
  


He chuckled, “Oh, but you are. I’m sure that you’ll find that you have no choice but to follow our commands. You really won’t like what happens if you don’t.”   
  


Xisuma rolled his eyes, “And I won’t like it if I do. You are all the same. You use people to get what you want, not caring what happens to them. You disgust me.”

The man smiled, “You seem very sure of yourself.”

“I am.”

The man turned his back on Xisuma, walking up to some sort of control board, “Very well then. It’s time for your first lesson.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Xisuma choked back a sob, laying on the hard cold floor of his cell. Tears were streaming down his face making a small puddle around his head. He couldn’t bring himself to move from his position. 

He never wanted to go through that again but something inside him told him that he would have to. He would have to go through whatever they put him through until he got him and his friends out of this hell hole. And there was no way he was leaving without his friends.    
  
It took Xisuma an hour before he’d been able to get himself up from the floor. Light headed and feeling sick to his stomach, Xisuma thought from his place on the cheap cot. He made a mental list of what he knew and what he didn’t know. 

What he knew:

  1. One of his friends used to be an experiment here and if Xisuma had to guess he would say that it was Doc.
  2. That whatever this cell was made of stopped him from being able to use his Admin magic.
  3. They had his friends trapped here as well. 
  4. Whatever this world was, they didn’t have druids or demons or anything of the supernatural. They might not even have hybrids.



The list for what he didn’t know was much longer and most of what he did know wasn’t solid facts. But from what he did know he could make an inference. 

The Hermits were taken here to be studied and tested on because they are different according to the world they are currently in. 

Xisuma sighed. Maybe the first thing he should do is get something to write with. It would definitely make this a whole lot easier on him. But then the scientist could always take a look at what he was writing after all Xisuma had no real way to fight back. 

He had to be smart about this even if that meant it would be harder on himself. 

He hummed. In theory if he were to go along with the labs plans for him, there would be less suspicion about him. The man from before also mentioned rewards. Maybe some of those rewards could come in useful. In what way he didn’t know but it was better than nothing. It would be easy to eavesdrop on the scientists as they clearly didn’t perceive him as a living human being. 

Xisuma smiled, the perfect plan was quickly forming. He was going to get out of here with his family. No matter what it took. 


	2. It Hurts Instead

Cleo had never been so annoyed in her undead-life. Being poked and prodded by old smelly men wasn’t really helping her mood. 

“Hey!” She growled as one of them got waaay too close to her breasts, “Do you want to keep your hand!?”   
  
The charged male quickly backed up, raising his hands in a surrender. The scratching of pencil on paper could be heard as one of the other scientists frantically wrote something down. 

Cleo smirked. She could smell their fear. Fear was a strong, musky smell and in this case it happened to have a slight hint of disinfectant. It smelled wonderful coming from cowards like this. 

One of them cleared their throat to speak. Cleo rolled her eyes. They never had anything good to say. 

“Subject 96-”   
  
She snorted at the number, interrupting the bald man.

With a sigh the man started again, “Subject 96, we need you to bite-”   
  
Cleo barred her teeth, excited to tear some flesh off of the gross men who kidnapped her. Normally she wouldn’t be like this but these people had pissed her off. They treated her like a mindless beast and she was understandably sick of it. 

At this point the man had given up trying to explain the test, pushing a button on the control panel. A young lady walked in. Tear stains were apparent on her pale face. She had long brown hair and the most wonderful brown eyes.   
  


Cleo’s face fell, “Oh.”

She was supposed to bite this beautiful woman.

She faced the scientist, disgust clear on her face, “Won’t even send one of your own? You are truly vile and cowardly creatures.”    
  
The bald man smiled, “And you are trapped in a cage. It’s either you do what we say or else.”   
  
“Or else what!? I’m already dead. It’s not like you can kill me twice!” She snapped, her eyes faintly glowing.    
  
“Or else we kill her right here and now.”   
  
Cleo froze. She wished, not for the first time, that there wasn’t glass between her and the filth that dared test her. It took all of her self-control to not run up and bang her fists on the glass. With tears in her eyes, she took a step towards the brunette. 

She suddenly pulled her into a hug, letting the woman cry on her rotting shoulder. She whispered comforting words into her ear as she gently lifted the human’s arm up to her mouth. Cleo slowly parted her mouth before biting down. The women’s scream’s filled the air as the zombie’s teeth sunk into her arm. 

Blood dripped onto the white tile beneath. The scene was as beautiful as it was bloody, the two in a very romantic position. One was screaming at the top of her lungs while the other had gained a hungry look in her eyes. One not unlike a predator. 

Cleo’s eyes seemed to glow brighter, a chuckle escaping her lips. She gently sucked up all the blood from the bite making a soft moan come out of the human. Cleo sucked in a breath. The smell was too strong. This woman was going to drive her crazy. Her fresh, floral scent filled Cleo’s brain. 

All she could think about was  _ her. _

_ Only her… _

_ Nothing… _

**ELSE!**

The women screamed out in pain once more forcing Cleo out of her mind and into the present. Blood was now gushing out of the woman’s shoulder, a large bite visible. Cleo gasped, tears starting to form. 

What had she done?

She had let her instincts take over. That was the honest answer. Now the woman was crying in pain, her lovely hair getting stuck to her face from all the tears. Red beautifully clashed with her fair skin. 

Cleo took a step closer, her non-existent heart racing. And she gently kissed the woman’s lips. 

They were soft and warm, the complete opposite of her. She smiled. Everything about this woman seemed to be perfect. An angel sent from heaven just for her. And she brought paradise with her,   
  
But that paradise was quickly taken away. Men dragged the woman out of Cleo’s cell leaving Cleo alone and covered in blood. 

Clearly, this was the worst day in Cleo’s undead life.


	3. The Meaning Of Flowers

The young scientist watched in wonder as Subject 87D created flowers out of thin air, a large grin on his face. The Subject was a female Druid with fair skin and short brown hair matching her deep chocolate eyes. Freckles lined her cheeks giving her face a bit of color. Her skin was flawless, pale and perfect.    
  
And she was his subject.    
  


He reviewed the paper work he had. 

Subject 87D

Given Name: Stress Monster

Sex: Female

Weight: 148 lbs.

Height: 5’6

Species: Druid

Blood Type: AB

She was almost the perfect weight for a woman of her height, he noted. He smiled to himself. To him it was amazing how seemingly perfect his first ever subject was. They trusted him with this beautiful, enchanting creature. A creature who could spin plants into life out of nothing. A creature was as rare as was wonderful.

He would have to be careful with the tests, he decided. Something so rare shouldn’t be destroyed. No, he’ll be gentle and soft with the other worldly female. 

“Subject 87D?” He softly spoke but made sure he was loud enough for her to hear. Despite his tone the subject didn’t respond.

“Subject 87D?” He said a bit louder. She still didn’t respond. He frowned, writing it down on paper. Maybe she was deaf? Or did she not recognize her new name.   
  
He cleared his throat, “Stress Monster.” 

She turned to look at him. He grinned. Bingo. 

“Hello, Stress Monster. I am Doctor James Soki but you may call me James. I am the lead scientist on your case.” He introduced himself, trying to be polite as possible, “You will be referred to as Subject 87D from now on. If you have any questions feel free to ask.”   
  
“Where are my friends?” She asked, worry clear in her voice. 

“Do you mean the others of your kind?” Doctor James asked.   
  
She sighed, shaking her head, “My friends. The other Hermits. Are they safe?”

James gently smiled. So she was the caring type, thinking about others before herself. A wonderful creature indeed. 

He cleared his voice, “Don’t worry. As long as you and your friends are in our care they will be safe and will remain unharmed.” It was a lie but the subject did not need to know that. “Now, I must leave for now but I will be back at dinner time with food.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stress rolled her eyes as the so-called doctor left. The male was honestly way too creepy for her liking and it was clear that he wasn’t telling her what was really going on. He was definitely more interested in her looks than her concerned.

She scowled to herself. God, what a creep. 

Vines wrapped themselves around her arm and she let herself smile. At least she still had her powers. It was always a comfort to her to be able to make life appear and grow around her. It was relaxing. 

She was glad that her only method of coping wasn’t taken away from her. She wouldn’t know what to do if it was. 

Silent tears started to fall as she thought about her friends. Were they allowed to keep their powers? Did they have any way to distract themselves from these cold white walls that could drive anyone to insanity?

The more she thought, the more she cried. Xisuma definitely wouldn’t have his power as he could easily escape with them as his magic was one of the most powerful. And what about Tango? What would happen if they took away his fire? 

How were they being treated? Were weird men eyeing up False and Cleo? She hoped no one was body shaming them. Cleo couldn’t take anymore of that. Were they staying quiet enough around Ren so they didn’t hurt Ren’s ears? 

Stress doubted that they were treating her friends with the respect they deserved. 

Blood red roses bloomed from the vines on her wrist, letting her know that her emotions were starting to peak. She leaned back against the padded wall. She let her emotions run wild, vines growing faster and faster. Flowers covering every exposed inch of the room. Every color rose you could imagine was there. Red, black, white, yellow, peach, green, blue… each with their own meaning. 

Red For Desire.

Black For Mourning.

White For Innocence.

Yellow For Caring.

Peach For Sympathy.

Green For Life.

Blue For The Unattainable. 

In the center of the room grew not a rose but a different flower. A beautiful purple flower called Monkshood. 

_ Hatred. _


	4. Lucky Number

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Gore, Self Harm, and Misgendering

Iskall was not easily scared so it says a lot when he is. And right now he is terrified, not only for himself but for his friends. Any normal person would be if they woke up in a strange place they never seen before, trapped in a small white cell. 

People bustled about outside of his cell, talking loudly and refusing to say his actual name. It annoyed the shit out of him. Not only that they refused to respect that fact he was non-binary. While Iskall preferred he/him pronouns he hated being called a man. And the dickbags scurrying around like chickens without their heads kept calling him a man.

It was either ‘The Male’ or ‘Subject 85’. Guess he got lucky with the number. He snorted at his own little joke making one of the mouldy cake eaters look at him. Iskall smiled mockingly at the scientist, slowly raising his middle finger up to flip the fucker off. 

The scientist scowled back at him, pushing a button on the control panel. A controlled shock was sent through the cell bringing Iskall to his knees. He gritted his teeth, holding back a scream. 

When it was over Iskall sat down, his breathing heavy and uneven. He sent a glare at the scientists as he tried to regain his composure. The shock seriously hurt, more than he would have expected. It also fried his robotic eye so now he couldn’t see out of it. 

It also kept sparking which was not good. Iskall sighed, bringing his hand up to the sparking piece of metal. He knew the scientists weren't going to help him so he would have to do this himself. He dug his fingers into the skin around the mechanical eye, hissing as he did so. 

This was going to hurt like a bitch. 

Iskall took a deep breath. Then he started pulling. He grunted at the first pull, not moving the piece at all. So he pulled harder. The metal slightly moved making Iskall choke back a scream. But he had to keep going. He pulled even harder getting it half way out. Thick red blood was now running down his face, getting into his mouth and staining his teeth. Tears came out of his other eye, mixing with the warm blood.

“One more…” He whispered to himself.

His finger’s gripped the metal, slick with blood. God, he was covered in blood. He yanked as hard as he could, screaming in complete and utter agony as the metal eye was ripped out of the flesh. He threw the bloodied thing on the ground. 

He broke down and sobbed. Blood and water mixed in a puddle below him. The noise outside his cell got louder and louder. Why were they yelling? He sobbed harder. Make them stop.

Make them stop!

I’m sorry...

Help..

Someone pulled him out of his cell. Strong arms held onto him as he was lifted up onto something. Someone gently rubbed his face with, what was that, a wipe. God, he couldn’t think. 

Then his world went black.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Iskall woke up confused but when did he not? He drowsily looked to his side, noticing something sticking out of his arm. An IV. 

“Huh..” 

He really did do a number on himself if they decided that he needed medical attention. He chuckled, they shocked him and hurt him and didn't do anything to help but when he did something to himself… It was darkly funny. You only care if I’m hurt if you're not the one causing it. 

It hit a little too close to home.

He sighed, looking around the room. What was with this place and white walls? Like you could choose any color but you choose white. And not only do you choose white to be a color for a whole room, no every room has to be stark white. 

It’s not that Iskall had a problem with the color white it was just that this place used it way too often. Like use another color please. Or at least use accents! It was hard on his eyes… well eye.

There was nothing interesting about this room is the conclusion Iskall came up with. A small end table was at his right while on his left was the medical equipment he was hooked up to. There was nothing for him to do except lay there.

“Worst service ever.”

He groaned, making himself sit up. He lifted his legs over the side of the bed, carefully getting up. His feet touched the cold hard tile floor and he smiled, walking to the door. The IV pole trailed along being pulled as Iskall walked. 

Iskall turned the knob on the door and it opened. 


	5. Red Rage

“How many chickens would it take to kill an elephant?”

The scientist looked over at Mumbo, confused, “What?”

“I asked how many chickens it would take to kill an elephant.”

The scientist burst out laughing, “I have no idea! Is there a reason you are asking such a weird question?” The scientist smiled, looking at the raven haired man. 

“Ah, well it got you to pay attention to me so there’s that.” Mumbo got off of his cot. He walked up to the glass and watched the scientist, “I’m Mumbo Jumbo but you already know that so may I ask what your name is?”

The scientist paused before answering, “My name is Oliver. Oliver Brown.”

Mumbo nodded, “So Oliver, what made you work here?”

Oliver smiled, “Well, I need a job to help me get through the summer. You see my full ride doesn’t cover the summer costs so I need to fend on my own. These people reached out to me and offered me a job and it pays well so I thought why the hell not.” He chuckled to himself.

Mumbo hummed, clearly interested in the young blonde’s story, “You look pretty young. The youngest I’ve seen so far. I mean no insult when I ask you how old you are.”

“Eighteen.” He answered plainly. He wrote something down on a clipboard before searching through his notes. From where Mumbo was standing he could see the boy's handwriting. It was messy, not unlike his own.

“...Hey, I’m not really comfortable calling you Subject… whatever your number is so I’m just going to call you Mumbo if that’s okay.”   
  
Mumbo chuckled, “That is perfectly fine. I would actually prefer that you do call me by my name.”   
  
Oliver smiled, “Cool.” He then masked his expression, “So I have to explain some rules to you. First, Tests will be run on you. If you fail to comply with the procedure of the tests you will be punished accordingly. If you do comply you will be rewarded. Next, you must respond to a scientist if they talk to you. All questions must be answered verbally unless you physically are unable to. No talking back or being hostile to scientists, if caught you will be punished accordingly. Any information you give us about you can and will be recorded if it is of any importance.”

Mumbo sighed, “That’s a lot.”

Oliver breathed out a small yeah. He looked out of breath from reading off the rules so fast. He offered a small smile to Mumbo.

Another scientist walked in, blood staining his white lab coat. Both Mumbo and Oliver looked at the man in surprise although Mumbo’s gaze held more fear. The man hummed, looking over Oliver’s work.   
  
Oliver cleared his throat, “Sir, may I ask why there is blood all over your lab coat. No offence but it could contaminate my work space.”

The man grunted, “Subject 85 decided it would be smart to rip out his own eye. Fucker got blood everywhere.”

Oliver bite his lip, “Do you know why?”

The older man scoffed, “Is there any reason to rip out your own eye?”

Oliver sighed, looking back down at his work. He waited for the man to leave before talking to Mumbo again, “Please don’t do anything like that.”

Mumbo shook his head, “I won’t. Who is Subject 85?”

Oliver went to the computer, looking it up. “...Subject 85… Given Name.. Iskall Possner-”   
  
“He did what!?” Mumbo yelled startling the younger, “God damnit!” 

Mumbo ran his hand through his hair effectively messing it up. He paced around his small cell, thinking. No way would Iskall just rip out his eye unless it was hurting him. How would it get broken enough for it to cause him pain unless....

They fucking hurt Iskall.

How dare they.

Mumbo was seeing red. No one messed with his friends and that did not exclude snobby, know it all scientists. 

“Where is he!?”

Oliver flinched back. To be frank the sudden mood change in the older male scared the shit out of him. How can someone so calm go to looking like they would brutally murder you and enjoy every bit of it in a second?

Mumbo pounded his fists on the glass, “Tell me where Iskall is!” 

His eyes were fogged up with unchained rage. The kind you really didn’t want to mess with. At this point in time Mumbo wasn’t the chill, laid back redstoner. No, he was the Mumbo who would gladly rip you to pieces if it meant getting what he wanted.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took Oliver hours to calm the redstoner down. And he had to admit it was the hardest thing he had ever done and he was quite surprised that he managed to do it at all. Now he was sitting back in a rolly chair watching the giant. 

Mumbo was still angry but he was more calm. His urge to maim anyone one in his way had shifted to a cold calculating rage. If he wanted to help his friend he would have to be calm about it while still making sure that the bastards learned a lesson. 

He needed a plan. 

He glanced over at Oliver before speaking up, “What are the rewards you mentioned before?”

“Uh… I mean it’s not really stated anywhere. I guess it depends on what the tester feels like you earned?”

Mumbo nodded, “So in theory if the tester felt like I deserved a notebook then I would get a notebook.”   
  
Oliver nodded.

Mumbo smirked.


	6. Feathers

Grian flopped down on the cot he was given. He let out a sigh. Why has getting kidnapped so boring? No scientists were visiting right now so he couldn’t even talk their ears off!

Normally he had something to do whether it was prank one of his friends or work on one of his many building projects or even just fly around for the hell of it! Now he couldn’t even stretch his wings in his small cell. 

He tried doing things to pass the time, counting how many tiles were on the floor outside of his little cell, singing every song he could remember off the top of his head (he ended up making up his own), and even trying to groom his own wings. That last one did not end well. 

Point was he tried everything to cure his boredom to no avail. Now his head was running wild with his thoughts and worries. He felt like he was drowning in a pit of doubt. 

His worries consumed him leaving an aching feeling in his heart. He could usually fight the feeling with his friends at his side. But now he was alone. No one to talk to. No jokes to tell to lighten up the heavy mood. 

He sat up, putting his head in his hands. The one good thing about being alone is that no one can see you cry. Depending on how you look at it that could also be a bad thing, he guessed.

It was during these times of loneliness self-doubt creeped in, cutting his heart as easily as a knife. Thoughts attacked him on all sides leaving him defenceless. A helpless heap of flesh and bones. 

He didn’t matter. He was useless. Why would anyone want to be friends with him? No one really cares about him. He was trash to be thrown away.

He took a shaky breath, reminding himself that it wasn’t true. The Hermits wanted to be friends. He wasn’t useless, in fact he was very smart, intelligent even. And no matter what the hermits loved and cared for him. They would never throw him away, not in a million years. They were his family.

He cracked a smile. Purple sparks formed at his fingertips, making him look down in shock. He frantically looked around making sure that no one was there to see that. He let out a sigh of relief. No one was there. And for that he was glad.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Subject 54, please stand up straight.”

Grian did as he was told, letting the men inspect his wings. The room for testing was much bigger than his cell, probably so they could see his wing span. Whatever the reason be it brought a small smile to his face. A stretch did him good.

One of the scientists gently stroked his left wing making Grian’s face go red. And just like that he hated it. These people weren’t supposed to touch his wings, only the hermits could do that. Only the hermits could brush or even out his wings and help him groom them. Only the hermits could do something that left him so vulnerable. 

A sharp tug made Grian yelp. His head was reeling. How dare they! Grian forced himself to calm down. After all he didn’t want to get punished for acting out of line. Feathers fell to the floor as one of the scientists told the person behind him off. 

“I told you to be careful with this one! It’s a one of a kind.” The scientist walked up besides Grian, studying him, “Meaning you can’t do anything that will hurt our chances at finding out how it ticks.”

Grian winced. Yep, there it was. Absolute no care or regard to how he feels just a simple calculated measure. Grian had to stop himself from sighing. The scientist was still looking him up and down, taking notes on the clipboard of his. If he tried hard enough he could make out a few words.

_ Subject is relatively calm. It seems that they prefer large open areas rather than their enclosed room. Subject is also very aware of social cues, clearly able to tell what a person is feeling.  _

Huh. That was a rather interesting way to look at it. And it was true, he felt instant relief when he stepped into the open area, letting himself relax and put his guard down even if it was only for a few seconds. He also noted how the scientist used the pronouns they/them. Were they unsure of his gender or was it a weak attempt at dehumanizing him? Whichever it was it didn’t really bother him. He didn’t mind being called them. 

Another scientist put their hand on the base of his wings making them flutter. This was going to be a long day. 


	7. A Turn For The Worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all going to hate me.

Tango was picking at the dirt underneath his nails, pretending like he didn’t give a shit about what the scientists in front of him were saying. Seriously, didn’t they have anything better to do? He snorted as he heard a clipboard being slammed down. Of course not, they were too busy arguing with each other to do something productive. 

He was growing more agitated by the second. He didn’t want to have to listen to their mindless bickering. At least they are not talking to you, his brain supplied and he had to admit he had a point. And with that point he was stratified to listen in and stop feeling sorry for himself. After all, it could be much worse.

His mind flickered to his friends for a second but he quickly pushed those thoughts away. He couldn’t afford to dwell on things right now. 

He lifted his gaze from his hand to the men, and one woman Tango dulling noted, in front of his. They seemed to be discussing the charts that they had spread out across the terminal. Tango really couldn’t understand them, the charts too far away for him to make out any words. 

He scowled. The blonde didn’t like not being in the loop or refused information and that was what was happening even if it was unintentional. But Tango wouldn’t put it past the scientist to keep any little shred of information he could use outside of his reach. In fact that’s what had been happening ever since he woke up in the cramped cell.

One of the scientists looked his way, making Tango’s eyes widen in surprise. Honestly, he thought that they were going to keep ignoring him in favor of their ‘friendly disagreement’ but it seemed not. More interesting was the fact that it was the only female of the group that decided to take the attention back to the subject. Tango also noticed that she didn’t take part in the debate.

Oh god, they actually have someone intelligent on the team. 

Tango had to stop himself from laughing out loud. Of course, how cliche’ can this get? The one to have a brain is the only fucking female. It’s something you’d see in a slasher horror fic. The hot virgin is the last one standing, out playing the villain of the movie, running the final girl cycle.

A harsh thud of the glass jolted Tango out of his thoughts. Oh. She was right there.

“Subject 99, please respond with a yes or no. No other speaking will be permitted.” She stated, her tone sharp. She meant business, eyes narrowed and ready to snap at him in case he stepped out of line. “You are a demon, is that correct?”   
  
“Fire spirit.” Tango quickly corrected despite his instructions, “I’m not a demon. Don’t have horns, you see?” He pointed to his head, showing off the fact that he indeed did not have a set of horns. “I’m a totally different species. I’m nothing like a demon, really. Well, beside the affinity for fire and chaos but that’s it.”

The woman raised an eyebrow before looking down at her clipboard. She started writing. Tango would have read over her shoulder but once again the paperwork was positioned so he couldn’t see what was being said about him. Again. 

“Well, that was a nice load of information,” She started, a wicked smile on her face. “But I believe that you were not allowed to say anything but yes or no. You broke the rules. You do know what that means, don’t you?” She asked mockingly, tilting her head to the side as if she was talking to a small child that was just learning the different shapes.

Tango growled in response, more annoyed than anything. The shocks hurt, sure, but they were hardly anything to him. He could take a little shock and so what if he didn’t answer in the exact way they wanted him too? It really didn’t matter. They still got the answers they wanted just in a little different way. 

The female motioned to one of the other scientists before focusing back on the blonde, “Be thankful that you won’t be hurt. After all we need you in perfect shape for the next test.” 

That made Tango roll his eyes. Oh, right, he was so thankful that he wasn’t being hurt just because he had to be useful for the next fucked up test that they decided was necessary and then have everything blamed on him. Yeah! Clearly they were being such merciful captors, not hurting him just to use him later. 

Next thing he knew he was being led down the hall into an arena of somesort. Did they want to test out his powers? That seemed the most likely. 

“Open the other door.” A voice commanded over the intercom and the door across from where Tango entered opened. Tango let out a shocked gasp. 

“Subject 99, use your powers on the other subject. There will be repercussions if you refuse.” The voice rang out again causing tears to form in his eyes, threatening to fall. 

_ In the doorway stood a beaten and battered Zedaph.  _


	8. Lover

No. No.  _ No. No. No. No.  _ **_No!_ **

Zedaph was shaking, tears forcing their way out of his eyes. He clutched his side, trying to stop the bleeding with his hand. A cruel laugh echoed through the room. 

And then he collapsed. 

His legs gave out under him and he tumbled to the floor. He screamed as his side ignited in pain. God it hurt. It hurt so much. And suddenly a figure was standing over him, watching Zedaph slowly bleed out.

And then he woke up. 

Phantom pains made his whole body ache. His side still screamed and it screamed louder when he was forced to stand. He gripped the wall for support, not trusting his legs to hold him after that gruesome demise. 

“Test successful.” A voice rang out making Zed clutch his head. It was too loud. Everything was too loud, he thought as he struggled to muffle his cries. Everything hurt. 

Hands restrained him, pushing him up against the wall. The next test, he guessed. He wasn’t ready and he doubted he would ever be. He sobbed harder. It was too much. 

Nails dug into his wrist, piercing his skin. Zed weakly looked up at the person. The person was well-built, strong, and his eyes were hollow. A broken shell of the human he once was. Zed wondered if that was his fate. Would he turn into a hollow shell of himself? Would he be forced to hurt others and slowly lose every piece of what made him, him?

The male pulled back one of his fists and Zed braced himself. The fist landed itself on his stomach making him kneel over from the impact. Bile rose, threatening to spill all over. But for now only silvia came out, wetting the medical gown Zed was forced to wear.

Another punch to the gut.

Then another.

And another.

And finally Zed went over the edge. He screamed, kicked, and cried. Throw up was all over him and the male holding him. The only comfort was the male firmly holding his wrists, a look of pity in the other subject’s eyes. Zed went limp, his body leaning against the male. 

He wanted his boyfriends. 

After what felt like forever, the broken and beaten Zedaph was forced onto his feet. He was basically dragged down a hall. They kept him in a dark room, forcing him to keep standing on his trembling legs.

Finally, after what felt like hours of waiting, the door opened. And there was Tango.

Zedaph paid no attention to what the voices were saying, throwing himself at his boyfriend. Strong arms wrapped around him making sure he didn’t fall. Zed pressed into the warm embrace. He was completely unaware of Tango’s sad gaze. 

Tango gently led Zed, having the shorter boy sit on the cold floor. Zed whined. He tried to grab Tango to pull the taller closer. Tango jolted back, avoiding his lover’s grip. 

“Subject 99, do what we say, now. You wouldn't want anything to happen to your friend, now would you?” Tango let out a hiss. He didn’t want to listen to them but he didn’t have a choice, did he? If he didn’t listen they would hurt Zed. At least if he had to hurt Zed, he could give some comfort to the blond. 

He sighed, kneeling down to hold Zed’s face. He blinked back tears as he stared into his lover’s eyes which were wide with fear and pain but also had a hint of hope.    
  
“I’m sorry.”

Shivers ran down Zedaph’s back. Mind racing at a million miles an hour, he couldn’t focus. What was Tango sorry for? It wasn’t his fault that they were in this mess. It was no one's fault except the people who decided to take them away from their home. Tango was innocent. 

Tango’s hand rested on his shoulder before igniting into flames. A scream ripped it’s way out of his throat. His mind finally catched up.

_ Oh. _

This is why Tango said sorry. 

Zed reached out, grabbing the bottom on Tango’s gown. He pulled himself closer to the fire spirit. He pulled himself closer to the burning ember that was his boyfriend. He knew damn well that it would hurt and that he would have a bunch of nasty new scars but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Tango needed a hug. So that’s what Zed did. Standing up on shaking legs, Zed pulled Tango into a hug, ignoring the fire licking at his skin. He ignored the pain, he ignored the cries, he ignored everything besides Tango.

Tango’s fire circled them as Tango dropped to his knees, bringing Zed down with him. He sobbed into the shorter blond’s hair as Zed closed his eyes. It would be painful for anyone to hear the hiccuping wails.

The sprinkler system turned on. The fire died down, leaving the two boys a soaking mess on the floor.


	9. The Hero

Screens covered every inch of the walls, white text dancing across the black background. It was oddly calming to the one person in the room. He was currently tying his hair back into a ponytail, humming as he did so. The humming was the only sound in the dark room besides the faint hum of the computers. It was lovely in his opinion. 

He woke up in a rather good mood that morning, relaxed and refreshed after reading himself to sleep the night before and letting himself sleep in. For once everything was going right. Everything felt right. 

After waking up he found the energy to make himself a homemade breakfast. Now, he wasn’t the best cook but he certainly wasn’t the worst. And the pancakes that he made were pretty damn good. Add that with a side of hashbrowns and he had a wonderful breakfast.

He then started some simple coding for fun. It was a nice way to relax, not pushing himself to do anything too grand and just letting himself go with the flow. It was something he should really do more. 

All in all, his day was wonderful.

Until it wasn’t. 

After coding for a few hours, he started getting bored. And a bit worried. His brother hadn’t messaged him or sent him any more books. Xisuma would at least send a book once a week unless he was working himself too hard or he was hurt.

So he decided that he would give his brother a little visit. With a quick code, he was in X’s base. He sighed, noticing that there was no one home or at least no one was in the main area. 

He messaged the server. If they saw his name, the hermits would surely freak out and tell the admin, leading Xisuma to find him. Surprisingly though no one responded. He tried again with no luck. 

He paled under the helmet as he tried to reason it out. He was pretty sure he was in season seven, the humid air of the jungle making him sweat through his armour. He didn’t know how his brother dealt with it. The heat was almost unbearable. At Least it wasn’t the nether, he sassed himself. There was no reason for the lack of response, it was the middle of the day so everyone should have been up.

No. Something was up. He sighed to himself, shaking his head.

It was up to Evil Xisuma to save the day.


	10. Enter: The Knight

_ “There will come a soldier _

_ Who carries a mighty sword” _

The voice carried through the room and down the hallway. Not a tone was out of place as the words enchanted all who heard it. 

_ “He will tear your city down, o lei o lai o lord” _

Some of the nearby works found themselves humming along to the song, others merely tapped along to the beat. Still others were not as impressed. 

A large man with a dominating presence, stormed down the hall with a clipboard in hand. He did not look like the kind of person you would think would be a scientist. He was tall, that was for sure, but he was not lanky. One look at the man and most would believe him to be some kind of athlete and not working a day job at one of the most well known labs for the unexplained in the district. 

But here he was, stomping through the hall to get to the source of the singing, glaring at anyone who came too close to him. After a few minutes of terrified gazes from his peers, he slammed open the door to the ‘observation’ room. He kicked the door closed behind him and quickly took up off his lab coat which he then rested on a rolling chair.

_ “O lei, o lai, o lei, o lord _

_ He will tear your city down, o lei o lai o lord” _

The man rolled his eyes. Clearly the subject had not stopped singing upon his entrance. 

With a sigh, he brushed his dark hair out of his eyes with his hand as he flopped down in the rolling chair. The chair rolled back a few inches before hitting the desk. The man looked through the glass at the subject.

The subject had long blond hair that was done back in a ponytail with light (yet somehow not pale) skin that made his blue eyes pop. A few freckles could be seen if you were to truly study the subject. 

“Hello, I’m Katsu Mori. I will be watching over you and I will be the one making sure all of your tests go as planned. Now, subject…” Katsu trailed off. He flipped through the pages of paper work while the subject looked at him in interest.

After a few seconds Katsu cleared his throat, “They forgot to print your subject number. What should I call you in the meantime? Also, pronouns.”

The subject softly smiled at the scientist, “I’m Wels, a knight of a very far away place. Male pronouns please. It’s nice to meet you, Mori.”

Katsu waved him off, “Just call me Katsu, no need for family names.”

Wels nodded respectfully. He sat down on the padded ground, running his fingers through his hair. Suddenly the hair tie was in his hands and his hair was let loose, flying about before settling on the length of his back. He then took the loose hair in one hand while he played with the tie in the other. Masterfully, he put his hair up into a bun. There was no doubt that he had done this many times before.

Katsu watched in interest as the man- no subject fluidly did his hair. He silently wondered how hard it was to take care of such long hair. It would take much more time and effort than his short spiky mane that he sported. Time and effort that he wouldn’t give to something he thought was so unimportant. Yet there was something special about the way Wels moved. 

“Huh.” He chuckled, “Damn, I think too much. You know what, Wels, let's get to know each other since you are going to be stuck here and what not.”

Wels nodded, “Sounds good. What should we talk about.”   
  
“Uh.. shit. I don’t know. Hobbies and shit like that?” Katsu shrugged, making Wels laugh.

“Your co-workers must love your word choice.” He joked. “Well, I enjoy singing as you can probably tell. I also like to build.”

“Build? Like in architecture?”

“Something sort of like that. From what I can tell, your world is much different than ours. No magic or anything of the sort.”

Katsu let himself smile, “No. I’m afraid we don’t. I would love to see some magic though. Real magic, not just those conmen on the streets looking to scam you for a quick buck.”

“Ah, you act like we don’t have those either.” Wels laughed, bouncing slightly as he did, “But it is all in good fun. All of my companions are wonderful and kind people. We may see things differently and come from many different places but I swear on my name that not one of us harbors ill intent… except maybe the folks from the flipside as I’ve started to call it.”

“Flipside?” The raven haired man leaned a bit forward, interested in what Wels had to say. 

“Ah, yes. Well… it is complicated and quite a long story.” The knight sighed.

“I have all day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I want to say sorry for the long wait! I've been dealing with a lot of stuff recently, including the death of two family members, and it has been hitting me hard. Also, Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments. I never expected anyone to actually read this, never much like it and want to read more. To be perfectly honest, I didn't really plan this story out at all... But thank you so much! I don't think words can convey how happy I am!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Destroyed to Create](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26072383) by [AllieCrownZJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllieCrownZJ/pseuds/AllieCrownZJ)
  * [Locked Away (On Hiatus)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27529408) by [ChaiSocks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaiSocks/pseuds/ChaiSocks)




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